Touch
by Jaclyn840
Summary: The Seven times Katniss and Madge touched, and the one time they didn't. Madgeniss Drabbles. Femslash/Implied Smut/Canon/Implied Gadge/One-shot
1. 7

_/1. Lunch/_

The olive-skinned girl chews a damp morsel of bread slowly, trying not to let it show when she tastes the burnt parts. Across her, the girl with blonde braids munches on flaky pastry; she doesn't know what's in it, but it tastes like peaches and goat's cheese.

_Crunch_.

Katniss sets her teacup down and sees a hunk of Madge's pastry perched in front of her, glossy beneath the Lunch-hall's lights. Her hand shoves it back, leaving a trail of crumbs across the table; she's owed enough people already.

Madge just rests her hand on Katniss's and smiles, shaking her head.

* * *

_/2. Needle/ _

An urgent gasp rouses Katniss from dozing off in sewing class; Madge has pricked her finger. She resists the urge to flee at the sight of crimson on her fingertip, and grabs her hand.

Katniss looks around for the teacher, but she has left the class for a smoke.

_Prim would know what to do,_ she thinks. The dot of blood blossoms into a full drop, threatening to spill from her fingertip like the tears from her eyes. Katniss panics; she places the finger between her lips and sucks on it.

The pain has gone, but Madge feels something else.

* * *

_/3. Pin/_

"I wished...I mean I hoped, you'd come home," she gasps, throwing her arms around Katniss outside the Undersee Manor's gates, "I'm so glad you made it."

Katniss wipes the tears from Madge's eyes, "I need to return this," she says, pressing the pin into her hand, "you gave it to me when I left."

Madge contemplates the gold token in her hand, still warm from the heat of Katniss's bosom. Her father warned her about the danger the Mockingjay symbolizes. But it means something else to her.

She presses Katniss's hand to her heart, and whispers,

"You never did."

* * *

_/4. Apple/_

"I picked these from the Meadow, it's not much," Madge says, holding out a straw basket covered in grey cloth.

Katniss pulls the fabric back and a shudder goes through her body. To Madge, she sees a humble gift of a dozen apples. To Katniss, she feels herself sailing through the air, and the world around her exploding into a million pieces.

"Are you alright?" she asks, touching her fingers to Katniss's pale cheek. She presses Madge's hand against her ear, swallowing the urge to scream.

"They're lovely," she says, taking the basket and feeling her trembling subside into stillness.

* * *

_/5. Strawberry/_

"It's odd you'd still pick these for us," she says, pouring the strawberries into a porcelain bowl, "since you've all the money in the world now."

"I'm not selling," Katniss replies, leaning against Madge's kitchen door, "I'm giving them to you."

"Thank you so much," she says, touching her lips to Katniss's cheek, "still, I should give you something for going all the way into the woods."

Katniss ponders the heat spreading across her face, and how - in the absence of Reapings and goodbyes and imminent death - the slightest of Madge's touches makes her heart flutter.

"You already have."

* * *

_/5. Bow/_

"It's so heavy," she sighs, feeling the ashen bow creak beneath her unsteady pull, "you made it look so easy during the Games."

Katniss presses a palm along Madge's lower back to correct her posture. She brushes her hand along the long row of buttons lining her white lace dress, and tries to guess if its fear or anxiety or excitement pounding back against her fingers.

"That was a show," she says, leaning close to her shuddering shoulders and whispering, "this is real."

Madge's fingers tremble against the taut bow string, trying not to let go before she's ready.

* * *

_/6. Piano/_

_Clang_.

Their hands brush against each other on the Undersee's piano. It's happened before, but this time they stop playing and stare at the keys in silence.

"We'll try again from the top?" Madge suggests, looking away and flipping the score.

"I think I'd prefer hearing you play," she replies, touching the place on her knuckles where their hands met.

Katniss rests her head against Madge's pale shoulders, watching her fingers dance across the keys. She barely gets through three measures before hitting another wrong note.

"Sorry," she whispers, her cheeks turning pink, "I only make mistakes when you're around."

* * *

_/7. Kiss/_

It was inevitable that this would happen.

"I…you, I mean…, Gale, I thought, Peeta…the Games," Madge sputters, lips gasping for breath against hers.

Katniss grips her blouse so hard the fabric starts to rent. For a moment, she doesn't think about why Madge's confused stuttering included Gale's name, and gives in to the hunger she has aroused. Unseen and unheard, their lips melt into one another like a fire consuming soft cotton, leaving behind ash and heat.

If it took a reaping for them to become friends, she doesn't mind another to become lovers.


	2. 1

_/8. Perfection/_

Katniss watches Madge sleep, her matted blonde hair shifting with each breath.

Amidst the intoxicating scent hanging in the still-warm air, Katniss reaches to pull the covers over Madge's shoulders, but her fingers hesitate.

_No, _she thinks, _Madge's perfect. _And she doesn't want to change it. _Not Capitol perfection, just flawlessness unmarred by war or poverty. _

Tears brim in Katniss's eyes as she stares at her, trying to sear the image into her memory. Tomorrow there'll be nothing left but memories, and the Mockingjay pin.

_Madge Undersee,_ _the girl I cherished too little, and loved too late. _

Katniss presses a hand over her mouth, hoping she doesn't wake Madge up with the sound of her sobbing.

* * *

**A/N: I went a little over, I...I...just couldn't. If you have a way of cutting it down to 100, please leave a review. If you don't, leave a review anyway. **


End file.
